


7 Days in St Petersburg

by xslytherclawx



Series: Cat Café Universe [13]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Jewish Character, Katsuki Yuuri and Victor Nikiforov are Yuri Plisetsky's Parents, M/M, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, The Lion King - Freeform, Victor Nikiforov is Extra, shippers on deck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-11-21 14:26:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11359344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xslytherclawx/pseuds/xslytherclawx
Summary: At the end of August, Otabek goes to visit Yuri for the last time during the off-season.He should've anticipated that Victor and Yuuri had caught on.(takes place August 2017. As always, canon compliant as of the end of season one)





	1. Days One and Two

Otabek still couldn’t quite grasp just how nice Victor and Yuuri’s apartment was. [1] He wasn’t sure why he’d expected any less from  _ Victor Nikiforov, _ maybe he’d thought Yuuri would have been a tempering presence, but the marble floor in the lobby, and the marble spa room with a swimming pool (which seemed a bit like a hazard) were a little  _ much _ . Especially once Otabek found out that the pool  _ and  _ the gym were privately owned by Victor and Yuuri.

The apartment itself was huge, with an open floor plan and large windows that looked out onto the balcony. It had four bedrooms, and there were plenty of dog and cat toys around. The living room area had practically an entire wall dedicated to bookshelves, which were filled to the brim. The kitchen was large, and Otabek found out that Yuri, at least, had a private balcony (so it stood to reason that Victor and Yuuri did, too).

He had a whole guest room to himself, and he chastised himself when he found himself wishing to share a room with Yuri again. He didn’t think Victor and Yuuri would  _ care _ , but they  _ would  _ ask questions. And Otabek wasn’t sure he was ready for that. Besides, the mattress Victor and Yuuri had bought for the guest room was probably nicer than any mattress Otabek had ever slept on before, and his family had a comfortable lifestyle.

He knew as soon as he got into the lobby of the building that this visit would be much different from his previous one.

Although, really, for the first twenty-four hours, it wasn’t.

Yuri had picked him up from the airport – Otabek had had a late afternoon flight this time – and they’d spend the first night sequestered in his room, watching, for some reason,  _ Le Chat du rabbin _ again, although this time on Yuri’s new television, and they were curled up together on his sofa. Eventually, once the movie was over and they were both exhausted, Beka had made his way to the guest room to sleep.

The next day, they spent time around St. Petersburg together, going to all of the places Yuri claimed “sucked the least”. They came home for dinner, which Yuuri had cooked, and Victor suggested that they all watch a movie together in the living room.

Otabek and Yuri settled in on the loveseat by the windows, as Pyotya had commandeered the other one for her own personal use, and Yuuri was already sitting on the couch with Makkachin.

Victor went to the DVD collection which was in a bookshelf under the television, and Yuri groaned from Beka’s left. “Not  _ Frozen _ .”

“But we could watch it in Japanese!”

Yuri huffed. “If you put on  _ Frozen _ , Beka and I are going to my room. It’s like, the  _ worst _ Disney movie.”

“Then what do you suggest, Yurio?” Victor asked.

Yuri crossed his arms. “I dunno. There are good Disney movies. Like, I dunno… _The_ _Aristocats_ or _The_ _Lion King_?”

Yuri had come up with those titles very fast for someone who supposedly hated Disney movies.

“Do you like  _ The Lion King _ , Otabek?” Victor asked.

Beka nodded. Maybe it hadn’t been the best day to wear matching lion shirts, but Yuri had given him one as a gift last night.

“Okay, _ Lion King  _ it is then!” Victor announced, grabbing another movie and putting it into the player. He grabbed the remote and dove onto the couch with Yuuri, whom he promptly cuddled.

They started the movie, and for the first forty minutes or so, everything was fine. Normal. Yuri grabbed his arm when the stampede started, and if they’d been alone in Yuri’s room, Beka would have wrapped his arm around him. As it was, he squeezed his hand, hoping that Victor and Yuuri were too engrossed in the film to notice.

Timon and Pumbaa came onscreen, saving Simba.

Victor giggled, clinging to his fiancé. “ _ Yuuuuuri _ ! That would be us if  _ we were wild animals _ !”

Yuri shot him a dirty look, which Victor apparently didn’t catch.

“I’m Timon, and you’re Pumbaa,” Victor whispered loudly to Yuuri.

“Hey, what does that mean?”

Suddenly, they were giggling. Yuri was  _ furious _ . “I’m  _ trying _ to watch this, you gross assholes!” he snapped.

“Yurachka,” Victor said, “you’ve seen this movie a hundred times.”[2]

Yuri’s face flushed. “Not a  _ hundred  _ times,” he said. “And  _ shut up and don’t call me that _ .”

They, at least, got quieter.

Throughout the course of the film, it became increasingly clear to Beka that if Victor was Timon and Yuuri was Pumbaa, that would make Yura Simba… and that meant that Beka was Nala. It added up; he and Yuri had known each other when they were younger, and then had reconnected as teenagers, and, well, Beka was in love with Yura, at least, even if he knew that hoping for reciprocation was probably in vain.

He felt his face flush when Nala and Simba were  _ reacquainted _ , and hoped that Yura didn’t notice. Of course, five minutes later… came the  _ scene _ . [3]

Timon started singing, and Otabek tried his best to sink into the coach and disappear, feeling like he was on  _ fire _ . Victor squealed, and he and Yuri both looked over at him. “Shut  _ up _ , assholes, I’m  _ watching the movie _ ,” Yuri hissed.

Fortunately, Yuri didn’t look over to Beka, but he did lean into his shoulder, and Beka found himself wishing Yuri had picked a better moment.

Victor and Yuuri didn’t  _ say _ anything, though, so Otabek figured he was probably fine. He wasn’t convinced they wouldn’t say anything, but… they weren’t saying anything now, so maybe they just… wouldn’t say anything in front of Yura?

The movie ended without much major issue, although Otabek’s blush returned with a vengeance when Simba and Nala were together at the end. He willed himself to think of something else – anything else, but his face still felt  _ hot _ , so he slipped away, excusing himself to use the bathroom. 

He locked the door behind himself and turned the faucet on. He chanced a glance at the mirror – he was beet red. It was a good thing he didn’t stay in the living room; someone had surely put the lights on by now. He splashed cool water on his face and tried to get himself to  _ calm down _ . After a few minutes, his blush had subsided, so he flushed the (unused) toilet, washed his hands, and left the bathroom.

Victor and Yuuri were still cuddled up on the couch with Makkachin, but Yuri wasn’t in the living room. “Uh, I’m gonna turn in early,” he said to Victor and Yuuri.

“Sweet dreams!” Victor called. “Hopefully Yurio told you he has tutoring tomorrow morning.”

Otabek nodded. Victor waved him off, and then promptly started whispering and giggling with Yuuri. On his way to the guest room, Otabek noticed that Yuri’s door was open. After a second’s hesitation, he knocked on the frame.

Yuri was there in seconds flat. He was still wearing the same clothes from earlier. “Beka, you don’t have to  _ knock _ , not if the door’s open.”

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to bed early.”

Yuri pursed his lips and crossed his arms. “Yeah, I should probably go to bed soon, too. My tutor will be pissed if I’m not wide awake tomorrow.”

“We should do something tomorrow, after your tutoring session. If we have time.”

Yuri brightened considerably. “Yes,” he agreed. “We should. Absolutely.”

Otabek smiled. “It’s a plan. Goodnight, Yura.”

“Night, Beka.”

Otabek went into the guest room and laid down on the bed for a few minutes before changing into pyjamas. This was fine. This would be fine.

Eventually, he hauled himself out of bed and undressed, deciding that it was best to try to sleep.

He tried to convince himself that Victor and Yuuri had been giggling about something else.

They hadn’t been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 You can find their apartment [here](https://xslytherclawx.tumblr.com/post/162246417926/the-podium-family-apartment-for-our-au-i-dont) for reference. [return to text]  
> 2 Victor only calls Yuri "Yurachka" when he's _trying_ to annoy him.  [return to text]  
> 3 It's obviously "Can You Feel The Love Tonight". You can watch it [here](https://youtu.be/aF4CWCXirZ8?t=13) [return to text]  
> 


	2. Day Three

The next morning, he woke up a bit late and took a shower as soon as he got up. He put on some comfortable day clothes - track pants and a t-shirt - and padded out to the kitchen. Walking by the study, he could hear Yuri arguing with his tutor about something. To his surprise, Yuuri Katsuki was alone in the apartment, sitting at the kitchen island, drinking coffee.

“Victor’s walking Makkachin,” he said. “Do you want breakfast?”

“That would be nice, but I can make something; you don’t have to get up.”

Yuuri waved his hand. “Don’t worry about it. There’s bliny batter in the fridge, anyway.” He got up and got the bowl of batter out of the fridge, pulling out a frying pan and heating it up on the stove.

“Can I… make myself tea?”

Yuuri nodded. “Victor has a whole collection.” He pointed to one of the cabinets. “The ones he doesn’t want anyone to use are at the very top.”

Otabek nodded and put on the kettle. He looked through the cabinet and got out a peppermint tea that looked good.

“So, Otabek, I actually wanted to talk to you.”

Otabek should have anticipated this, really. He tensed slightly, but tried to tell himself it could be nothing. “Yes?” he said.

Yuuri poured out some batter into the pan. “I just want to make sure that we don’t have the wrong idea about your relationship with Yurio.”

Otabek froze. “What?”

“It… seems to Victor and I that… your feelings for Yurio go… maybe beyond those of friendship?”

Otabek averted his gaze. Had he really been that obvious? He thought back to the night before. Yes. Yes, he had. “Don’t tell him.”

“So we’re right.”

“I’m… perfectly content with friendship, if that’s all Yuri wants.”

Yuuri flipped the blin with near-expert precision. “But it’s not all that  _ you _ want. It’s okay. You can speak honestly to me; I won’t tell him anything.”

“I… you’re right,” he said, because  _ I love him _ wasn’t something he was quite prepared to say out loud just yet.

“If you want my advice,” Yuuri said, sliding the blin onto a plate and starting another. “Tell him. I spent months thinking Victor just viewed me as… I didn’t even know. But I had no idea he was in love with me, and he… you remember my short program? The temptress?”

Otabek nodded.

“ _ That _ was how Victor saw me. And it took us months to communicate our feelings properly. I’m not saying you  _ have _ to tell Yurio – and I promise you that I  _ won’t _ – but… it might make things easier.”

Or it could make things so much more complicated.

“You’re the only person he’s like that around. Affectionate. Well, you and his grandfather.”

“And Pyotya,” Beka added without thinking.

Yuuri smirked. “And Pyotya, yes. But still. That says a lot, from him.” He sighed and flipped the blin. “Look… it’s… become pretty obvious to me since meeting Yurio that he has some… abandonment issues. He wouldn’t abandon you. No matter what, he’d make sure you were a part of his life. But, really, I think you’d be pleasantly surprised if you told him.”

He slid the blin onto a plate and offered it to Otabek before turning off the burner. “There’s jam and other toppings in the fridge.” He covered up the bowl of batter and Otabek put it away when he went to get some jam.

Yuuri went back to his spot at the island, and Otabek made his tea, sitting down next to him after a few minutes.

Otabek had eaten exactly one bite of the bliny when the elevator doors flew open and Victor flounced into the apartment. Makkachin stood in the foyer obediently as Victor took off his leash and hung it on the wall.

Victor then, of course, made a beeline for Yuuri. “ _ Yuuuuuri _ ,” he sighed. “I  _ missed _ you.” [1]

“I missed you, too, Vitya.”

Otabek was fully prepared for Victor and Yuuri to be off in their own world, so he took another bite of his bliny and another sip of his tea and didn’t notice Victor slide up behind him until Victor’s hand was on his shoulder.

“I trust Yuuri had a talk with you this morning?”

Otabek swallowed his tea. “Yes.”

“Vitya,” Yuuri chided gently from beside Otabek. 

“Otabek, you’re a good guy. We support your relationship with Yurio.”

Otabek wasn’t sure how to respond. “Thank you?”

“No problem,” Victor said. “But if you ever hurt him, Yuuri and I will hunt you down and destroy you.”

The cheerful smile never left Victor’s face. Otabek had never in his life felt so terrified.

“Vitya,” Yuuri chided again. “I don’t think Yurio needs protecting from Otabek.”

“I don’t either,” Victor said, returning to his fiancé’s side, much to Beka’s relief, “but it never hurts to remind him.”

“I would never hurt Yuri,” Otabek said.

“The warning still stands,” Victor said. “And also, for that matter, when you two do eventually have sex, you need to make sure to use condoms and lube. If you don’t have both, you  _ will _ wait.”

“... _ Eventually _ ?” Beka repeated.

Victor waved a hand absently. “It’ll happen. It’s just a matter of time. Which is why we’re giving you this talk now, after nothing happened last month when he visited you in Almaty. The season starts soon, and we know better than anyone what that could do.”

Beka had certainly heard stories, many of them involving Christophe Giacometti.[2]

“The point is,” Yuuri said. “We know you have feelings for Yurio, we think you two would be a good match –”

“Better than a good match,” Victor said. “You two are perfect for each other.”

Then why was Victor threatening him?

“– And we want to make sure you two communicate and are safe.”

“Yurio’s like our son,” Victor explained.

“That might be a stretch,” Yuuri said. “He’s only nine years younger than I am.”

“I’m almost old enough to be his father. And we’re the best male role models he has – and I know for a fact that he’s looked up to  _ both _ of us since childhood, even if he’s too stubborn to show it. He’s just going through his rebellious teen phase. And I, for one, am just glad that the bad boy he likes is a nice, respectful, decent guy who we can trust.”

Otabek did the only thing he could do: he ate the second blin as quickly as possible and finished his tea, depositing both the mug and the plate in the dishwasher. “Uh, I’m gonna… go walk around for a little.” After making sure he had his phone, he went to the foyer and put on his shoes, leaving with a quick wave.

He wasn’t surprised that Victor and Yuuri had  _ noticed _ , not really, but he was, if he were honest, more than a little terrified of Victor. He pulled out his phone and texted Mila.

**Messages with** Mila Petrovna  
  
**Otabek:** Yuri’s with his tutor, and Victor and Yuuri just told me they approve of me while simultaneously threatening me. How threatened should I be?  
  


He stuck his phone in his pocket and wandered around. Shortly thereafter, he found himself at the rink. Fitting. Mila texted him back.

**Messages with** Mila Petrovna  
  
**Mila Petrovna:** I think Yuuri would manage to talk him down with normal relationship stuff, but if you actually HURT Yura…  
  


That wasn’t the answer he’d wanted.

**Messages with** Mila Petrovna  
  
**Otabek:** Are you at the rink?  
  
**Mila Petrovna:** Taking a break, but yeah.  
  
**Mila Petrovna:** I’ll let you in, hold on.  
  


Three minutes later, she was at the door. She had her hair in a loose bun, so her undercut was clearly visible.

“You’re not really dressed for the rink.”

She stepped aside and let him in. 

“We watched  _ The Lion King  _ last night. I think that’s what started this.”

“A love story featuring gay uncles. Yeah, not the best idea around Vitya and Yuuri.” She rolled her eyes.

“Yuuri said I should tell him.”

Mila hesitated. “I’d wait. It’s too close to the season. Tell him after.”

_ After _ was almost a year away. “That long?” Truthfully, he didn’t know how much longer he could last like this.

She sighed. “If you haven’t noticed, Yura’s been doing a lot of growing.”

“I’ve noticed. He’s taller than me now.”

“ _ I’m _ taller than you,” Mila said. [3] “And anyway, it’s… affecting his routine. You want to win this season fair and square, so tell him afterward. And he’ll need you there when he doesn’t win gold.”

“You don’t think he’ll win gold?”

Mila rolled her eyes. “He’s competing against  _ Victor Nikiforov, _ Yuuri Katsuki,  _ you _ , and the only reason JJ got bronze last Grand Prix was his mental breakdown. The competition’s tough as it is. Add on to that growing ten centimeters?”

Otabek saw her point. “My free program’s about him.”

Mila lit up at that. “Ooh! What’s the song? I bet I can get it on YouTube or something, and you can skate to it.”

She dragged him along, and Otabek managed not to think too much about Victor and Yuuri and whether or not he was going to actually get the guts up to tell Yura how he felt for a whole hour.

“You should tell Vitya and Yuuri about your program. Don’t show it to them. But… Yura won’t get it,” Mila said. “He’s sometimes purposefully dense. If you tell Vitya and Yuuri… they’ll point it out to him.”

That wasn’t a terrible idea. “Do you think I’d need to, though, with them?”

“Can’t hurt. And, god, that song is  _ perfect _ .” She grinned conspiratorially. “But you know what would be even better?”

“What?”

“Have you planned out your exhibition skate yet?”

Otabek shook his head.

“Do it to a song from one of Yura’s favourite bands. He’ll  _ love _ it.”

Maybe, just maybe, this would work out. After all, now he apparently had three people willing to help him.

After another half hour, he thanked Mila and decided it was time to go back to the apartment. Yura was probably done with his tutoring for the day, and Beka needed a shower. He hadn’t planned on going to the rink, so he hadn’t brought a change of clothes with him.

Victor and Yuuri were cuddled up on the sofa with Makkachin when he got back.

“Otabek, hello!” Victor called from the sofa.

He greeted them.

“Did you have fun? What did you end up doing?”

“I ended up at the rink. Thought it might be a good idea to practise my short program.”

“Mm, yes, after all, you’ll be going up against me, Yuuri, and Yurio.”

Mila hadn’t sounded so confident in Yura’s status, but Otabek appreciated Victor’s faith in the boy. “Yeah,” Beka agreed. “So I practised, but I didn’t bring a change of clothes.”

Victor, fortunately, caught his meaning. And waved him off.

* * *

When he’d finished his tutoring session, Yuri had wanted to eat lunch and then go to the rink, and Otabek was more than happy to go along with that plan. This time, he made sure to bring his actual skates and a change of clothes. Yuri complained about his lesson on the walk there. As they entered the building, he turned to Beka.

“So what did you do this morning, anyway?”

Otabek shrugged. “Slept in, ate breakfast, came here for a while.”

“Oh! Did I tell you my theme for this year?”

Beka shook his head. Yuri was definitely excited about it though.

“The emo holy trinity.”

The… what? Beka wasn’t quite sure what that meant. He knew Yuri  _ definitely _ wasn’t Catholic, so why was he talking about a holy trinity?

“...You know, My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy, and Panic! at the Disco?”[4]

Oh, that made more sense. He was talking about three  _ bands.  _ “...Three pop songs?” he asked.

“ _ One _ pop song. That’s the Panic song. Lilia wasn’t thrilled, but Victor choreographed my free skate for me.”

Otabek, frankly, had no idea how Yuri had gotten away with it. “Send me the songs?”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

“And, uh, maybe some other music you like? I feel like I mostly send you songs, but… I want to know what kind of music you like.”

He wondered if he imagined Yuri’s blush at that. “Sure. We can listen to some tonight.”

* * *

That night, Victor made dinner, some french dish which Otabek couldn’t pronounce, and afterward, he went to Yuri’s room with him.

Yuri pulled out his laptop, which was covered in stickers, and opened it. He opened his music library. “Okay, so we’ll start with… the stuff you’ll probably like best. That’d be My Chemical Romance, I think.”

“Okay,” Beka agreed.

“What do you know about them?”

Beka hesitated. “I mean, I know some of their more popular songs…”

“Okay, so we’ll start you at the basics… first thing’s first, before we get into the history: every era of My Chemical Romance albums has its own visual and musical style.” And then Yuri launched into a long, detailed history of the band, including the fact that Gerard Way, the frontman, had gone to art school, “Which is really important, because it shows in everything he does creatively,” Yuri had added. When he’d gotten to the band’s formation, he selected a music video. “And this was their first single.”

The video was dark, in black-and-white, and didn’t look high budget.[5] He listened to the song. It started out slow, but it built into a high-tempo screamo song. He could see why Yuri liked them.

When the video ended, Yuri looked expectantly at him. Otabek gave him a thumbs up. “A little rough, but I liked it.”

“Damn right you liked it,” Yuri said, looking pleased with himself. “So this album. It’s about a man and a woman, two criminals, who end up getting gunned down in the end. Murdered. Like I said, Gerard went to art school.”

Beka nodded.

“So, then, the next album. It’s less rough, but it’s a sequel. The man is back from the dead, made a deal with the devil to bring back his love. He has to kill a thousand evil men. So it’s… Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge.” He talked some more about the history of the band, at this point, and then picked another video. “This is their first single from this album, and one of their most popular songs.” He played it.

This song was one Otabek recognised, if only vaguely. The video was some sort of prep school theme. [6]

When that video was over, Yuri grinned. “So this is the album I’m pulling my short program song from. So that’s kind of the look I’ll be going for.”

He pictured Yuri in all black except for a red tie. He could probably pull it off, but Otabek wasn’t sure how he’d adapt it for the ice.

“But the next album. That’s something totally different.” And Yuri told him about  _ The Black Parade _ . And showed him the video for “Welcome to the Black Parade”, which Otabek  _ definitely _ recognised. [7] “I kind of thought this look could be cool, but maybe in a few years.”

Yuri told him about  _ Danger Days _ , which had apparently been some sort of superhero theme, and showed him a video from that album. [8] Then he talked about Conventional Weapons, and how the band broke up before he’d ever gotten a chance to see them. “I mean, really, though, I didn’t even really know who they were, then. But I got to see Gerard and Frank in concert! They both have their own bands now.”

Yuri showed Beka a single from both of them; from Gerard, he chose [“No Shows.”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FsDSIEq7O08) From Frank’s band, he chose [“Weighted.”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iX1BRd6V6JY)

He looked at Beka expectantly, afterward. “Great, right?”

Beka nodded. It maybe wasn’t  _ quite _ his style, but it certainly wasn’t bad.

“So now, we go to Fall Out Boy. But I think… are you awake enough to understand English?”

Otabek was almost offended at the question. “Yura, I lived in the US and in Canada for years. I’ll be fine.” After all, very few Americans spoke Russian, and fewer still spoke Kazakh. He could understand English pretty much no matter what at this point.

“Just making sure, because the best way to do this is to also introduce the living god that is Brendon Urie.” He opened an internet browser, typed in youtube, and searched for “Drunk History Fall Out Boy”

“Drunk history?” Beka asked.

“Apparently it’s some American show, but this is really funny.”

“I’ve seen the show, Yura,” Beka said. “But is a drunk person really the best way to tell the story?”

Yura shrugged. “It’s the funniest.” He located the video that he wanted and clicked on it.[9]

Otabek watched with Yuri as a drunk singer told the history of another band. Yuri laughed a lot, and for that alone, Otabek was glad he’d gone along with this. He did his best to pay attention to the story, but with Yuri so close to him, laughing, it was hard.

“So, right, that’s basically all you need to know about Fall Out Boy. I’ll pull up some of their videos. They really only changed a lot after their hiatus.”

Yuri played a few songs from Fall Out Boy which he claimed were the most important.[10] After making sure Beka liked them (he did), he grinned. “And now we’re almost at the end. Panic! at the Disco.” He stretched. “So, Brendon Urie’s a lot younger than everyone else. He’s ten whole years younger than Gerard. And Brendon wasn’t even the youngest in Panic when they started out. I mean, now he’s the only full-time member, but, y’know.”

He didn’t know, but Yuri explained the history of that band pretty quickly, and started pulling up videos. This band was definitely pop, rather than the pop punk of the other two. Halfway through the fifth video, Yuri sighed. “Fuck, Brendon Urie is so  _ hot _ .” [11]

Otabek’s eyebrows shot up. “You think?”

“Beka, are you  _ watching _ this video?” He gestured at the screen.

It was a sexy video. Beka couldn’t help but notice that he had the same haircut.

“Wait, when this is done… I’ll show you one where he’s even  _ hotter _ . I’ll convert you to Team Urie.”

And he did. When that video ended, Yuri clicked onto another video. [12] In this one, Brendon Urie was in a suit in an empty club. “Beka, look at that man and tell me he’s not hot.”

“He’s hot,” Beka said. Truthfully, Brendon Urie wasn’t really his type, but he wasn’t about to say that to Yuri’s face.

“I mean,” Yuri said. “I know I’m sixteen, and he’s thirty, but  _ fuck _ .”

“He’s older than Victor.”

“I wouldn’t  _ actually _ fuck him. He’s married, and almost twice my age besides. But he’s  _ hot _ .” Yuri fell over onto Beka’s lap. “Which band did you like best? Be honest.”

Otabek pretended to consider it. Really, it wasn’t hard. “The first one. My Chemical Romance.”

Yuri nodded. “That’s an acceptable response.”

“Was there an unacceptable response?”

“Liking none of them. But I’d have been surprised if you’d said you like Fall Out Boy best. They just don’t seem like your kind of music. At least Panic does some club-type stuff, y’know?”

Beka nodded and started carding his fingers through Yuri’s hair without thinking. Yuri sighed contentedly. 

“So you’re skating to a song from each of those three?” Otabek asked.

Yuri nodded. “Short program’s MCR, free is Panic, and exhibition is Fall Out Boy. Assuming I even medal this season.”[13]

“Is it going that badly?”

“I grew ten centimeters in two months,” Yuri complained. “My jumps are all off. I could probably get through a program without a lot of jumps, but then that’s a low base score, and even fucking JJ would beat me.”

JJ had beaten  _ Otabek _ at the GPF last year. “JJ’s arrogant, but he’s a good skater.”

“But he’s an  _ ass _ ,” Yuri stressed. “It’s one thing if Victor and Katsudon or even Chris beat me. They know their shit. Georgi’s good, too, if he’s stable. If you beat me… well, you’re  _ you _ .” Otabek wasn’t quite sure what that was supposed to mean, but took it as a compliment. “But JJ… he’s such a fucking  _ dick _ .”

“You do realise that JJ and I were rink mates in Canada, right? He’s not  _ that _ bad.” He wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to defend the admittedly very arrogant Canadian. “He just feels like he has to be the best because he’s from this skating family.”

“He’s a dick.”

“Yes, he’s a dick,” Beka agreed. “Just don’t be a dick back, all right? Not unless he  _ really _ deserves it?”

“No promises.”

Otabek chuckled.

“Actually…” Yuri said. “When… when I was trying to meet up with you in Barcelona. I kind of realised maybe… maybe I should be less of a dick to the other skaters.”

Now  _ that _ was new information. And Yuri had apparently been sitting on it for over eight months. “Really?”

“The Crispinos and Nekola and even fucking  _ Mila _ got mad at me for… well, being a dick, basically. And then they made me call other skaters myself to figure out where you were.”

“You did that for me?” Otabek asked. 

“You’re my friend. Besides, I needed to talk to someone about my exhibition.”

It was a good moment, Otabek realised, to tell Yuri how he felt. But then he remembered Mila’s advice from earlier that day. Yuri had just told him himself that he was having trouble with his routine. Otabek couldn’t distract him.

“And we blew Victor and Yuuri out of the water,” Otabek said instead.

“Hell yeah, we did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 He's been gone for twenty minutes, max. [return to text]  
> 2 They're stories about lots of random sex and also alcohol and (in some cases) hard drugs. You know. The usual. [return to text]  
> 3 Beka is smol. I mostly used Yuri as a height reference; Mila seems taller in respect to Yuri than Beka does, and she doesn't have an officially listed height so. [return to text]  
> 4 There is no power on earth that could convince me that Yuri doesn't love those three bands. Also when I was 15 I'd have died before calling any of those bands "emo" bc it was thrown around like an insult and apparently now teenagers acknowledge and accept that it's emo? idk.[return to text]  
> 5 The song is "Vampires Will Never Hurt You" and the video is [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z1FHpCs8tD4). [return to text]  
> 6 Song: "I'm Not Okay (I Promise)". [video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dhZTNgAs4Fc) [return to text]  
> 7 [video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RRKJiM9Njr8) [return to text]  
> 8 Song: Na Na Na. [video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=egG7fiE89IU) [return to text]  
> 9 Brendon Urie's Drunk History of Fall Out Boy is beautiful, and you can watch it [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zjmXSJ_onTk). [return to text]  
> 10 The songs Yuri chose for FOB were as follows: [I Don’t Care](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uhG-vLZrb-g); [This Ain’t A Scene, It's An Arms Race](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GNm5drtAQXs); [American Beauty / American Psycho](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ZvHkOAtUYQ)[return to text]  
> 11 The videos are: (1) [I Write Sins Not Tragedies](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vc6vs-l5dkc); (2) [But It’s Better If You Do](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uBtH2YlNiNc); (3) [Nine in the Afternoon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yCto3PCn8wo); (4) [New Perspective](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d3sA5plF6kE); and (5) [Girls Girls Boys](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yk8jV7r6VMk) [return to text]  
> 12 It's "Death of a Bachelor". [video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R03cqGg40GU) [return to text]  
> 13 For those curious, Yuri's programs this season, including links and costumes, can be found on my tumblr [here](https://xslytherclawx.tumblr.com/post/162376027461/like-i-said-rose-and-i-came-up-with-routines-for). [return to text]  
> 


	3. Day Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Victor and Yuuri take Otabek out for lunch

The next day, Yuri had a tutoring session in the morning again, and Otabek headed down to the rink after breakfast (which he’d cooked himself this time; Victor and Yuuri were nowhere to be found). He brought his duffle bag with him and texted Yuri so he didn’t think that he’d abandoned him.

The Russian team had accepted him on the rink much more easily than he’d anticipated, and as he walked out of the locker room, he realised that Victor and Yuuri were there. That made sense; they were both training. He wasn’t sure how Victor expected to handle a comeback after a season off  _ and _ coaching Yuuri, but he hadn’t seemed particularly stressed from what Otabek could tell.

He practised his routines, and after a few hours, Victor asked him to join him and Yuuri for lunch. “Don’t worry; Yurio’s still at tutoring until one,” Victor said.

So Otabek agreed, expecting them to go back to the apartment. He was surprised to find Victor and Yuuri leading the way to a restaurant. Did they really have enough time for this?

Victor looked over the menu and turned to Otabek. “Order whatever you want. It’s on me.”

Otabek had been terrified enough by Victor to know better than to protest.

The server came and took their drink orders. Victor ordered a bottle of Perrier, and Yuuri hesitated.

“Vitya, how do you say pop in Russian?”

Victor furrowed his brows. “Pop? Like the music?”

Yuuri opened his mouth to try to explain what, exactly, pop was, when Otabek replied, “It’s лимонад, unless you want cola, which is the same as in English.”

Victor frowned. “I thought лимонад in English was soda?”

“It’s a dialect thing,” Otabek said. “They said pop in Canada, too.”

Yuuri, having learned the word he was looking for, ordered a soda. Otabek ordered a glass of still water.

Victor had the decency of waiting until their drinks had arrived and they’d placed their food orders to delve into conversation. “So,” he said. “Mila said that you wanted to speak with us?”

Wait, what? When had he said anything of the type? He thought back.

His program. Mila wanted him to tell Victor and Yuuri about his program. Shit.

“Uh, yeah,” Otabek said, trying to figure out how to get this out.

“If we frightened you the other day, please don’t be worried; you’re a good guy, and we  _ want _ you to be with Yurio. We just wanted to make clear that you need to treat him well.”

Victor had  _ more _ than made that clear. Otabek shook his head. “Not that. Uh, so. You two… know how I feel about Yuri.” Somehow, saying this in English (ostensibly for Yuuri’s benefit) made it a little easier, afforded him a little extra distance.

“We do,” Yuuri agreed. Victor nodded.

“I, uh, I’ve solidified my programs. Well, obviously.”

“Your programs are all about your love for Yurio!” Victor exclaimed. “Of course!”

Otabek blinked. He hadn’t said that. “Uh?”

“It’s so obvious in your movements. What are your song choices? And your costumes?”

Otabek hesitated for a moment. “My short program is…” Shit, this was embarrassing. “It’s, uh, ‘You’re My Best Friend’ by Queen?”

Victor squealed. “Will your costume be Freddie Mercury-inspired? He had some amazing costumes onstage!”

Otabek nodded. “And, uh, free program is… the letter scene from Evgeny Onegin? And for that… Yuri and I have watched this one movie together a lot - not always  _ together _ , but sometimes we’ll watch it long-distance at the same time - and my costume is inspired by a character he says reminds him of me.”

Victor squealed again and clutched Yuuri’s hand. “I’m sure it will be beautiful.”

“Mila said I should tell you so that you can… point it out to Yuri, if he doesn’t notice.”

“ _ When _ he doesn’t notice,” Victor corrected. “And we will, absolutely!” He took a sip of his sparkling water. “Like I said, we both want you two to get together.”

Yuuri nodded. “You definitely have a… calming effect on him.”

He’d noticed as much, if he were honest, but he hadn’t wanted to  _ say _ anything.

“And also,” Victor said. “There’s something I’ve noticed when we speak in Russian that I wanted to address.”

Shit, was Victor angry that he hadn’t been using a patronymic? “Yes?”

“You keep referring to me as вы. There’s absolutely no need to be so formal. We’re competitors; we’re on an equal playing field. Sure, I’m older than you and have multiple gold medals and titles to my name…”

“Vitya,” Yuuri chided.

“But there’s no need to be so formal. You could even refer to me as Vitya, if you’d like.”

“That might… be pushing my comfort levels to be honest. But I can start referring to you as ты.”

Victor smiled. “Wonderful. Glad we’ve made that clear. And Yuuri, too. Also informal.”

Otabek nodded. “That’s fine.”

“And, for that matter, I really don’t think you need to refer to Mila by her patronymic, either. You’re the same age, aren’t you?”

Otabek nodded again.

“Good. You’re really very polite, Otabek, but there’s no need to be so formal with  _ us _ . If all goes well, we’ll one day be family.”

Otabek nearly choked on his water.

* * *

Yuri was at the rink when they got back. He raised an eyebrow when Otabek walked in following Victor and Yuuri, but Otabek shot him a look that said he’d explain everything later.

When it came time to cool down and leave for the day, Yuri grabbed Beka’s arm. “We’re getting dinner on our own tonight!” he announced to Victor and Yuuri.

“Okay,” said Victor. “Just text us if you won’t be back by midnight.”

And that was that.

They showered and changed at the rink, and then Yuri took him to some hole in the wall restaurant.

“So why the fuck were you out to lunch with the two old men?”

Otabek had decided after lunch that a half-truth would work best here. “Victor thought I was being too formal.”

Yuri scoffed. “It’s just like Victor to drag you to lunch for something that stupid.”

“He tried to get me to call him Vitya.”

Yuri’s eyes widened in horror. “You didn’t agree to that, did you?”

Otabek shook his head. “I said I’d refer to him as ты. And Katsuki, too.”

“That’s not too bad,” Yuri conceded. “I didn’t know what they had up their sleeves, but if it’s just that, I guess it’s nothing.”

Otabek shrugged. “I thought Victor was going to ask me to use his patronymic.”

Yuri snorted. “Victor’s a fucking weirdo.”

And that was, apparently, the end of that conversation, because Yuri started complaining about his lessons. “Like, I’m a fucking gold medalist. Why do I need to know  _ chemistry _ ?”

“Doesn’t Katsuki have a university degree?” Otabek asked. “I don’t know… I think after I retire… going to university might be an option.”

Yuri frowned. “Why?”

“Why not? I might train, or do something else, but I don’t see how getting a degree would be a bad idea.”

“It just seems like a waste of time,” Yuri said.

Otabek shrugged. “It’s not for everyone. But I think I’d like to. Maybe I’d study literature.” He did love literature, and it wasn’t as if he’d need the money if all went well.

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You’d be the one wasting your time, and why are we even talking about retiring? Altin, I’m going to skate competitively against you for the next… five years, at least.”

“Of course,” Otabek said. “But I always did like school.”

“Of course you did. You’re a giant fucking nerd.”

Otabek didn’t protest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to make my feelings on sparkling water clear: it's disgusting. But Victor's extra enough that he'd love it.  
> I'm not from the midwest or Canada. I don't say pop. Some friends of mine do, and it was really confusing at first. Yuuri, who lived in Detroit for years, would probably say pop. Otabek, who lived in Canada (and the US although??? where???) at least knows what pop is.


	4. Day Five

On his fifth day in St. Petersburg, Otabek was woken up by being pelted with stuffed animals.

He rubbed at his eyes and saw Yura standing by his bed, arms full of stuffed animals. Where had they come from? Otabek could never remember seeing so many stuffed animals in Yura’s room.

“Get up, Altin!”

He moved the stuffed animals aside and stretched. “What time is it?”

“Eight. The two old men got me up earlier. They want to go to the Hermitage.”

Implied was that Yuri wanted Otabek to come along. “All right,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I need to shower and get dressed.”

Yuri beamed. “Great! I’ll let them know!” He left the room, not bothering to pick up the stuffed animals he’d thrown at Otabek.

Otabek shut his door and got some decent clothes out of the dresser. He stepped into the bathroom and started the shower. Really, Yuri could’ve found a better way to wake him up.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, he was showered and dressed, so he walked out to the living room.

Victor and Yuuri were, predictably, all over each other, and Yuri was sitting at the breakfast bar, eating cereal out of the box.

“Oh, good morning, Otabek!” Victor greeted. “We have real breakfast food; Yurio just wanted to take advantage of the off-season to eat that sugary garbage.”

“‘S delicious,” Yuri argued, mouth full. Otabek found it endearing. Fuck, he was too far gone.

“Otabek,” Victor said. “Do you eat pork?”

Otabek furrowed his brows. “Yes?”

Victor smiled. “Good. Then we’ll have katsudon for dinner! I just wanted to make sure; I know Yurio doesn’t keep kosher, but I wasn’t sure if you did.”

“I don’t. My parents do.”

Yuri nodded. “His parents’ cooking could knock you and Katsudon out of the water.”

Victor rolled his eyes. “Glad to hear it. Otabek, there are bliny in the fridge. You can just heat them up.”

“Thank you.” He went to do so.

“We were thinking about leaving in about half an hour, if that’s okay with you two?”

Otabek nodded, and he assumed Yuri did, too, because he heard Victor clap his hands together. “Wonderful! It’ll be a nice family outing; the weather’s supposed to be lovely.”

“Family outing?” Yuri repeated.

“Yurio, you wound me. You know you’re an honorary Katsuki-Nikiforov.”

“Beka, do you see what I have to put up with?”

“Be careful, or they’ll try to adopt you for real,” Otabek said. He put his bliny, filled, in the microwave and turned to face his friend, who looked horrified.

“Shit, I’m still a fucking minor.” Yuri turned to Victor and Yuuri. “Don’t you two dare!”

Victor shrugged. “Your grandfather is a good man. We would never take you away from him. He’s also an honorary Katsuki-Nikiforov.”

“Or maybe you just want to be an honorary Plisetsky,” Yuri said.

Otabek watched Yuri’s eyes widen in horror as Victor grinned. “That could be good, too!” he enthused. “Only we’re not Jewish, is that a problem?”

Yuri shoved more cereal in his mouth and rolled his eyes.

* * *

When they got to the Hermitage, Victor insisted on buying all of their tickets.

“I’m more excited about the Hermitage cats,” Yuri huffed as they waited in line.

Otabek nodded.

Yuri looked over to him and furrowed his brows. “What’s with your hair?”

Otabek touched his hair self-consciously. “Oh. I didn’t do anything with it today.”

“It’s _curly_ ,” Yuri said. “How’ve I never noticed that your hair is curly before?”

“You met both of my parents; both of them have curly hair.”

Yuri shrugged. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“And both of my siblings?”

“Beka, I’ve never seen your hair curly before.”

“It looks better when it’s straight,” Otabek said, shrugging.

“So you straighten it?”

Otabek shrugged. “Usually.”

“Well,” Yuri said, “ _I_ think it looks cool curly, too.”

Otabek felt blood rush to his cheeks, and hoped it wasn’t too obvious. “Thank you.”

“It’s the truth,” Yuri said, crossing his arms and huffing.

Otabek smiled, but then he saw it. He tapped Yura’s shoulder. “Yura, look. A cat.”

“What? Where?”

Beka pointed out the cat, and Yuri gasped and went to photograph it. It was really, very cute, watching Yura watch a cat. Yura pulled out his phone and was trying to get the cat to approach them for a photo. He swatted at Yuuri. “Katsudon, you’re practically a cat whisperer! Get that cat’s attention!”

Yuuri looked over at them, and then looked to where they were pointing. His expression immediately softened upon seeing the cat. “Aww,” he cooed. He squatted down and held a hand out. The cat ran over to him.

“How the fuck,” Yuri said, snapping a picture of the cat.

“Animals just like me, I guess,” Yuuri said, scratching the cat behind her ears.

Yuri hesitantly reached out. The cat sniffed him, and didn’t turn away, so he petted her. “Beka, take a picture!” he whispered.

So Otabek did.

By the time they entered the complex, he had ten pictures of Yuri petting various cats. Most of them had been lured over by Yuuri, but Yura hadn’t seemed to care. “Can I post this one?” Otabek asked, showing Yuri one of the pictures. Yuri was facing the camera, and was giving Otabek a thumbs up. The cat was striped, and nearly matched Yuri’s tiger-print T-shirt.

“Oh my god, that’s fucking amazing!” Yuri exclaimed. “Yes, post it! Post it!”

He opened Instagram and created a new post.

otabek_altin **Нравится: 6 106**  
**otabek_altin** At the #Hermitage with @yuri_plisetsky and this #hermitagecat #catsofthehermitage Посмотреть все комментарии (476) 23 августа 2017

He posted the photo and went back to finding cats with Yuri.

* * *

They were in the winter palace when Victor sighed. “Can you imagine the _history_ that happened here?”

“You mean like Bloody Sunday?” Yuri snorted.

Victor frowned. “Well, besides that. This was the seat of the Russian Empire for generations! And now it’s a museum! That we could rent out for a wedding!” Victor gave a pointed look at Yuri and Otabek.

“You and Katsuki said you’re getting married in Hasetsu.”

“We are,” Victor agreed. “I didn’t mean us.”

“If you mean _me_ ,” Yuri started, “I think my grandfather would have a fucking heart attack if I told him I wanted to marry in the Tsar’s palace.”

Otabek nodded in agreement.

“Why’s that?” Victor asked. “It’s part of our history.”

Yuri rolled his eyes and gestured to himself. “It’s not part of _my_ history, Nikiforov.”

Victor frowned. “What do you mean?”

Yuri heaved a sigh and spoke slowly, as if he was explaining this to a child. “I’m _Jewish_ , Victor. You know this.”

“What does that have to do with this?”

“It has to do with the fact that my grandpa’s grandparents lived in a shtetl that they had to flee during a pogrom issued on the Tsar’s orders? And his other grandparents fled right before one.”

“Oh,” Victor said, looking very contrite. “Oh, Yurio, I didn’t realise… if you’d rather go home…”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “I’m fine. It’s a museum, and if the Soviets left it, then it’s clearly not a monument to the glory of Imperial Russia.”

“I didn’t realise your family had lived in a shtetl,” Victor said.

Yuri exchanged a look with Otabek. “They were in Moscow by the thirties,” he said. “But yeah.”

“Well, then,” Victor said. “Where _do_ you want to get married?”

“I’m not getting married for at least another… fifteen years.”

Victor actually looked hurt at this. “You can compete while you’re married.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Well,” Victor said. “When you do get married. Where do you want it?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. Haven’t thought much about it. Maybe Ded’s synagogue.”

“I didn’t realise you were so religious.”

“I’m not,” Yuri said. “I eat pork, I don’t keep shabbat, I don’t do any of the modesty shit, I think the only yarmulke I ever owned was from my bar mitzvah, and that’s _definitely_ at Ded’s…”

Apparently this was the wrong thing to say. “You had a _bar mitzvah_?” Victor asked. “Why didn’t I know about this?”

Yuri shrugged. “Off-season. I was in Moscow.”

“I want pictures. I want to hang up pictures in the apartment.”

“Talk to my grandpa about it,” Yuri said. “And anyway, I’m _not_ religious, not really. But Ded always made sure we went to synagogue on Friday nights, so… I dunno, I guess it’s special to me.”

“That’s so sweet, Yurio,” Victor said, patting his shoulder. “And I’ll definitely ask your grandpa about those pictures.”

He walked away to find his fiancé, and Yuri turned to Otabek. “Why is he so _embarrassing_?”

Otabek knew exactly why; Victor was trying to give them a not-so-subtle push. “He’s going to have those pictures framed.”

He hesitated. “Did you ever have a bar mitzvah?”

Otabek chuckled. “I’m surprised my parents didn’t show you the pictures. They’re all more observant than I am. And for that record, Dima and Vika are Jewish, too.”

Yuri furrowed his brows. “Wait, what?”

“And they’re also b’nei mitzvah. I’ve known Vika long enough that I went to her bat mitzvah, but I’m not allowed to talk about it, because then she’ll leak the pictures of my bar mitzvah and tag them.”

Yuri snickered. “Have I mentioned that I love your friends?”

“Maybe once or twice,” Otabek said. “As long as you’re not just putting up with me to get to them.”

Yuri laughed. “Who says I’m not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically, Yuri is also a cat whisperer, but he just attracts random cats. Yuuri can focus his powers on specific cats.  
> The photo Otabek posts isn't the same as the description, because I wanted to use something that I can legally use, and I can't draw for shit. (If anyone wants to draw Yuri at the Hermitage with a cat that matches his t-shirt, I will be eternally grateful)


	5. Day Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Otabek and Yuri go out for lunch and talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hit my pre-writing last week, so that's why this is a bit late.

On Otabek’s sixth day in St. Petersburg, they made up for spending the entire previous day at the Hermitage by training all day. Yuri didn’t have tutoring, so Otabek didn’t feel  _ quite _ so awkward at breakfast. Apparently Victor and Yuuri knew better than to approach them both at once.

At least for now, but that was enough.

Victor put a kettle on for the tea. “What kind of tea do you want, Otabek?”

“Any kind of herbal is fine, thanks.”

Victor nodded. “I have a blend I got in Switzerland last time I was visiting Chris. We can have some of that. It’s delicious.”

Otabek saw Yuri roll his eyes. He was eating cereal out of the box again, but when he saw Otabek looking at him, he shook the box. “Want some?”

Otabek shook his head. “No, thanks.”

“Yuuri’s going to make egg white omelettes when he comes back from watching Makkachin,” Victor said, preparing two mugs of the same tea.

“I already have to eat that shit when the season starts,” Yuri said. “Might as well enjoy junk food while I can.” He shoved another handful of cereal into his mouth.

Victor rolled his eyes. “I don’t understand how you think that tastes  _ good _ .”

“‘Cos I’m not a fucking snob,” Yuri said.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with being a snob,” Victor said, pouring the water from the kettle into the mugs. “It’s too  _ sweet _ .”

“More for me,” Yuri said, shrugging.

Victor offered one of the mugs to Otabek, who took it gratefully. “Thank you.”

He sat down next to Yuri, who was still eating cereal out of the box. “So,” Yuri said. “You’ll be skating in the Rostelecom Cup.”

Otabek nodded. “I’ll be going up against Georgi.”

“You can beat that asshole, no problem.” Yuri shoved another handful of cereal into his mouth, and washed it down with a gulp of coffee. “Georgi’s as old as Victor and as unpredictable as Katsudon.”

Otabek caught Victor’s pointed look at the boy.

“I’m not going to underestimate my competition, Yura.”

Yuri shrugged. “You’ve seen him. He’s a fucking mess. You’ll kick his ass.”

“Even if that’s the case… it’s the first competition, and I want to make sure I have everything down.”

“His base score’s low, too,” Yuri said. But he grabbed another handful of cereal and shoved it into his mouth.

Otabek drank some more of his tea. “This tea is really good,” he said.

Victor smiled. “Isn’t it? You can only get it at this little market in the village close to Chris’s place. I always get a few bags while I’m there.”

“They’re trying to drag me along,” Yuri said. “I don’t want any part in whatever gross shit happens at Giacometti’s.” 

“That’s… probably a good idea,” Otabek said. “I doubt that they’d involve you, but… I’m not sure I’d want to see Christophe Giacometti in his natural habitat.”

“Chris is a perfectly sweet man,” Victor said, sipping his tea.

“He was sober when he pole-danced at the Sochi GPF,” Yuri said.

“He  _ orgasmed _ on the ice last season,” Otabek added. “Which… is not something I thought I’d ever see.”

“I almost puked when the cameras zoomed in on him grabbing his ass.” 

Victor tsked at them. “Chris is simply a grown man who is comfortable in his sexuality. You’re teenagers; of course you don’t understand it.”

“What  _ it _ is is disgusting,” Yuri said, rolling his eyes. This, however, did not deter him from shoving more cereal into his mouth.

He noticed Otabek watching him and shook the box in an offer. “Katsudon’s not back yet.”

Otabek hesitated. “Maybe in a bowl?”

Yuri huffed, but Victor put a bowl and a spoon in front of Otabek. Yuri handed the box to Otabek, who poured a bit of the cereal into the bowl. “Thanks,” he said, handing the box back to Yuri.

“No problem,” Yuri said. “Anyway. Rostelecom.”

“What about it?”

Yuri took a sip of coffee. “I was… thinking about visiting Ded at some point… and maybe I could at least go to the first day?”

Otabek’s eyes widened in surprise. “I wouldn’t want you taking time away from training…”

“Bullshit,” Yuri said. “And it’s almost two months from now. We’ll both be at Skate America, but we won’t be able to hang out before that. I know Rostelecom’s a competition, though, so I understand if you think it’d be a distraction….”

“Yura,” Otabek said, looking his best friend in the eyes. “You could never be a distraction.”

Victor made a weird sound that was probably a badly-suppressed squeal. When Otabek glanced over, though, the older man was scrolling through something on his phone.

Yuri grinned. “Then I’ll make the plans. And you should come over to Ded’s for dinner. He’s been asking about you.”

“I always liked Nikolai,” Victor hummed.

Yuri turned to him. “Are you a part of this conversation, old man?”

Victor gasped. “Is that any way to talk to your father?”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “You’re not even  _ old enough _ to be my father. Shut the fuck up, Victor.”

Victor huffed. “So I’m old, but not old enough to be your father?”

“You’re goddamn ancient for a figure skater,” Yuri said. He went to drink more coffee, and then made a face. “Shit, I need to get some more.”

He hopped down from the stool and trudged into the kitchen.

“Coffee will stunt your growth, you know,” Victor teased.

Yuri flipped him off.

* * *

They trained almost the whole day, but they did take a break for lunch. Yuri insisted that Otabek go out for lunch with him, and, well, Otabek wasn’t about to argue.

Before Victor or Yuuri could follow them, Yuri dragged him to a hole in the wall café not too far from the rink. “This place has the best pirozhki in St. Petersburg. Still shit compared to Ded’s, but…”

Otabek smiled. “Sounds like a great idea.”

They went in, and Yuri marched up to the counter. “Two bowls of borscht, a bowl of vareniki, and as many pirozhki as you can fit on a plate.”[1]

The girl at the counter smiled. “That’s double the usual order.”

“Got a friend with me.”

Otabek nodded to the girl.

Yuri turned to him. “Want anything else?”

“I think I’ll be stuffed from the borscht and pirozhki.”

“Oh!” Yuri said. He rushed to the refrigerator standing in the corner. “Two kvass, too.”[2]

The girl nodded. “That’ll be fourteen hundred and eighty rubles.”[3]

“I can pay my half,” Otabek said.

Yuri waved him off. “You paid for a flight here. It’s fine. You forget that I’m not paying rent or ordering in every night anymore.”

Otabek wanted to protest, but he knew Yuri wouldn’t back down. “Fine,” he relented. “Next meal’s on me, though.”

“If the two losers don’t insist on paying for it first.” Yuri pulled out his wallet and handed the girl some bills. The girl made change and handed him a plate of pirozhki.

“Borscht and vareniki will be out in a few.”

“Thanks,” Yuri said. He handed the plate to Otabek, and the two of them found a table. “You’ve gotta wait for the borscht. Trust me.”

Otabek smiled. “All right. I trust you, Yura.”

Yuri grinned. “So what about fucking Nikiforov implying I’d get married at the Hermitage?”

“I don’t think he realised the weight of his suggestion.”

“I mean,” Yuri shrugged. “I never knew my dad, so he could’ve been descended from fucking nobility for all I know. My Hebrew name’s only Uri ben Rivka,” he said. “And as much as I hate having my deadbeat mom’s name in my Hebrew name… if my dad’s name’s not in it, it means he was a goy, right?”

“Maybe,” Otabek said. “Or just… not present. You could always ask your grandfather. He’d probably know.”

Yuri shrugged, although he looked uncomfortable. “I don’t like reminding him of the fact that my mother abandoned me, y’know? I feel like sometimes he thinks it’s his fault. Which it absolutely fucking wasn’t.”

“It wasn’t your fault either. You know that, right?”

Yuri shrugged again.

“Yuri.”

“It’s not like I don’t remember. She said she’d come back – she was just going to work in America for a while – and then she never fucking did. I mean, she all but kicked me out one night because she had an audition.”

“ _ What _ ?”

Yuri unscrewed the cap of his bottle of kvass and took a sip. “She got married, we moved in with her husband. I was keeping her up, she had an audition, so she called Ded and packed a bag for me, and the only time I went back to that apartment was to get the rest of my stuff.”

“Yura, what?” Otabek hesitantly reached out a hand, and clasped Yuri’s wrist. 

“I missed Ded, and I was homesick. I was like… six, I guess?” He shrugged again. “She got the fucking job. Maybe if I’d kept my fucking mouth shut she’d still be here.”

“Yura,” Otabek said gently. “It wasn’t your fault. You were a  _ child _ . God, you know, I’ve had to babysit my share of little cousins in the off-season, and I’ve never just  _ shipped them off _ to someone else because I had practise in the morning.”

“That’s because you’re a good person, Beka.”

“ _ Exactly _ ,” Otabek said. “It’s because of  _ who I am _ as a person. And your mother… that’s because of who  _ she _ is as a person. It’s nothing to do with you, I’m sure.”

Yuri just shrugged again, and Otabek was almost overwhelmed by the urge to wrap him up in a hug.

“Yura,” Otabek said. “Listen to me. You have your grandfather, who loves you more than anything, you have Victor, and Katsuki, and Yakov and Lilia and Mila… and you have me, too. And we’d never abandon you. We all... care for you.” They all  _ loved _ him, and it was true, but the word  _ love _ caught in Otabek’s throat. “Look, Yakov’s a hardass who yells a lot, but has he ever left you? Or Lilia? Or Mila?”

“Victor did.”

“Because he was head over heels in love with Katsuki, not because of anything you did or didn’t do. And he came back, didn’t he?”

“Only after I chased him to fucking Hasetsu.”

“Victor… seems to have issues of his own. We all do. It’s not an excuse. But he seems to understand that he made a mistake by leaving you without saying anything.”

“I  _ guess _ ,” Yuri huffed. 

“Yura, you have people who care about you. And I’ll  _ never _ abandon you, got it?”

Yuri huffed. “Beka…”

“I’m serious. I might not be able to relocate to St. Petersburg to train with you – it’s a little late in the off season for that – but I always do my best to be there for you, and I always will.” He squeezed Yuri’s wrist. “No matter what.”

Yuri managed a smile. “I’m being stupid. Sorry.”

“You’re not being stupid, Yura.”

“...You know Svetlana Andreeva? The big actress?”

Otabek nodded. She was Russia’s pride – an actress who did both Russian and big Hollywood films.

“ _ That _ is my mother. Christ, at least Nikiforov’s fucking mother just  _ died _ .”

Otabek couldn’t say that Yuri really resembled his mother that much; they had the same eye colour, now that he thought on it, and they were both slender and graceful, but the similarities seemed to end there.

“Her loss,” Otabek said. “Honestly. Yura, you’re one of my favourite people in the world, and she’s really missing out.” Yuri was his absolute favourite person in the world, and maybe clarifying that wouldn’t hurt…

“Somehow, I don’t think she’d see it that way.”

“Then she’s an idiot. An absolute fucking idiot. You’re amazing, and honestly, I thank god every single day of my life that we’re friends. Our weekly Skype calls are the highlight of my week, and being here with you – or having you visit in Almaty – is even better. And I already can’t wait until we see each other again in October.”

That made Yuri smile. “Yeah,” Yuri said. “October.”

“Maybe you could even show me where you used to go to services,” Otabek said.

“Yeah, so, okay, here’s where it’s weird,” Yuri said, apparently in a better mood now. “So Ded grew up religious, I guess, I dunno, but like, after the fall of the iron curtain, or whatever, some liberal synagogues started popping up, and Ded went to one, because he said he’d been feeling a little stifled at the Orthodox ones. So like, my grandfather joined the first Reform synagogue in Moscow. Well, the first Reform one in the post-Soviet era. I dunno. Maybe there were some before? I don’t know a lot about that.”

“Mm, Abraham Geiger died in 1874, so definitely pre-Soviet, but you know… I’m not so sure that his ideas really extended into Russia. That’s something to look into.”

“Who’s Abraham Geiger?”

Otabek blinked. “The… founding father of Reform Judaism?”

“I thought your family was Orthodox?”

Otabek shrugged. “I mean, there’s not much else in Almaty. But I’ve never felt very comfortable there, personally. It took me a while to come to terms with it all, and there’s not much I can do in Almaty.”

“Then,” Yuri said, “if you have time to spare, you should go to services at Ded’s synagogue. It’s all in Russian and Hebrew, so that’s not a problem.”

“That’d be great,” Otabek said. “I’m not sure I’d be observant enough in a city with a Reform synagogue to go every week, but… I found one in Toronto that I went to for the High Holy Days.”

Yuri sipped at his kvass. “Ded makes me go if I don’t have a big competition. I don’t mind.”

“And you told Victor you weren’t observant.”

“I’m not,” Yuri said defensively. “It’s just… I love my grandfather, and he’s sacrificed so much for me… if he wants me to go to services with him on the High Holy Days… it’s the least I can do, really. Besides, he’d never ask me to do that over prepare for a competition.”

“Yura, usually when people tell others they’re not observant, they don’t celebrate Passover or the High Holy Days.”

Yuri shrugged.

The girl behind the counter brought out their borscht and Yuri’s vareniki. They thanked her, and then Yuri turned to Otabek. “Now we can eat.”

The pirozhki were  _ really _ good, and eating them with the borscht did make them all the better. “Have you told Victor you’re flying down to Moscow twice in a month?”

Yuri shrugged. “He’s not my dad.”

“Try telling him that.”

Yuri snorted and rolled his eyes. “That’s just Victor being extra. I’ll tell him eventually. I know better than to sneak out and send Katsuki into a panic attack.”

“To be fair,” Otabek said, “Katsuki doesn’t seem to have a lot of those. Not like JJ.”

“That’s right,” Yuri said, “you were that asshole’s rink mate. I always forget that.”

“He’s not  _ that _ much of an asshole. He usually means well. He’s just bad at showing it.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’ll tell Victor and Katsuki before I leave.”

“More than a day in advance. Victor seems to be… really supportive… he might try to plan something.”

Yuri stopped mid-bite. “Fuck,” he cursed. Or at least Otabek  _ thought _ he said “fuck”. He finished chewing and swallowed. “I’ll tell them tonight.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

* * *

Yuuri made dinner that night. Otabek didn’t know what the meal was technically called, or if it even had a real name, but it was delicious. He thought maybe Victor and Yuuri had been able to tell he and Yuri had had an… extravagant lunch, because dinner was a dish with vegetables and brown rice.

Otabek wasn’t quite sure what Yuuri had done to the vegetables, but they were _ delicious _ .

“You two know I’m going to Moscow next month, right?” Yuri said without any preamble.

Yuuri and Victor both froze. Victor had his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. “What? Why?”

Yuri looked at them as if they were idiots. But, well, Otabek realised, he did seem to think of them as idiots. “High Holy Days. I’ll be there a week. I have a rink worked out to practise at, don’t worry. And Ded knows I’m on a strict diet that close to competitions, especially since I’m doing Skate Canada.”

“I thought you could walk us through the High Holidays,” Victor said with a pout.

Yuuri nodded. “Yeah, I don’t know anything about them… or much about any western religions, to be honest.” 

Yuri shrugged. “I always spend them with Ded. If you two wanna haul ass to Moscow a month before the season starts, feel free. You’d have to get a hotel, though. Ded’s apartment is too small for guests.”

“No, no,” Victor said. “Spend time with your grandfather. You deserve it. You’ve been working hard.” He turned on Otabek. “What about you?”

“I celebrate with my family.”

“You know, I always thought you were Muslim…” Yuuri said, not impolitely.

“No,” Otabek said. “Jewish. I get that a lot though.”

“So a wedding at the Hermitage is out of the question for you, too…” Victor mused.

“Yes?” Otabek said. What a strange thing to say. He knew Victor thought he was destined to marry Yuri (which was fine by Otabek, really), and Yuri’s grandfather probably  _ would _ have a heart attack if he got married in the Tsar’s old palace, so why would Victor think that’d be an option for him?

“Beka’s more religious than I am. He even talked about some apparently major guy that I’d never heard of today at lunch.”

“Yura, you said your grandfather goes to a Reform synagogue and you didn’t even know who Abraham Geiger was.”

Yuri shrugged. “Beka, you do realise you’re a nerd, right? Like, it’s endearing, but you know that, right? You’re a nerd, and I’m not.”

“Who was Abraham Geiger?” Yuuri asked.

“He was the founding father of Reform Judaism. You know,” he said to Yuri, “Vika’s sister goes to rabbinical school in Germany, and her school is named for Geiger.”[4]

“I thought Orthodox didn’t do women rabbis?” Yuri asked. “They’re called something else?”

“Maharat,” Otabek said, nodding, “and it’s a liberal school. Not Orthodox.”

Yuri shrugged.

“What’s do Orthodox and Reform mean?” Yuuri asked. “I thought Orthodox was the Russian Church….”

“There’s Orthodox Judaism, too,” Otabek said before Yuri could manage a snide remark. “Reform Judaism was introduced as a modern alternative to both total assimilationism and to orthodoxy, as a way to retain Jewish identity in the modern world.”[5]

“So how is what this… Geiger man did any different from other people?” Victor asked. “I’m curious.”

Yuri shot Otabek a look which clearly read  _ You’re on your own _ .

Otabek ate another bite of his meal. “What’s your base knowledge of Judaism? I need a bar to work with.”

And so Otabek spent his second to last full day in St. Petersburg trying to explain the foundation of Reform Judaism to two people who had almost no substantial knowledge of Judaism whatsoever.

But he’d managed to explain to JJ once why Jews didn’t really care about Jesus, and he’d seemed to understand that.[6] So Otabek had had more difficult tasks.

It didn’t stop Yuri from snickering and rolling his eyes almost the whole time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 [Borscht](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Borscht). Vareniki is Russian for pierogi (which is Polish), but they tend to be, in my experience, smaller (having had american pierogi and also pierogi in Poland). Vareniki are also usually meatless - pelmini are very similar but filled with meat. They make dessert vareniki and like most people in berlin go for döner for a late night snack and when i lived there, i went for the vareniki at this corner russian café. (Y'all know what pirozhki are.) [return to text]  
> 2 Kvass is a drink that is damn near impossible to describe, and every time I do, I get weird looks. I say it tastes like good russian dark bread made into a fizzy beverage, but better. it works somehow. [return to text]  
> 3 That sounds impressive but it's really like 21€ / US$25. So not bad at all for actually enough food to feed four people (or, I guess, two teenaged athletes). [return to text]  
> 4 I may or may not have friends who go to that school (I totally do). It's a part of the school where I studied abroad, and I took a couple classes there (although not rabbinical student classes - electives). [return to text]  
> 5 This is obviously a massive oversimplification, but this is not a fic about the differences between Orthodox and Reform Judaism, so have an oversimplification. The movements in different countries also all had their own differences, and it's really... very complex. [return to text]  
> 6 There's an idea prevalent among a lot of Christians that Jesus is some huge prophet in Judaism (I guess they're confusing Judaism and Islam) and he's... not. like, at all. [return to text]  
> 
> 
> * * *
> 
> Reading [Young and Hopeless](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11578395) will give a more full view of Yuri's backstory in this 'verse.


	6. Day Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Otabek exercises, falls a little bit more in love with Yuri, and then they spend the day out on the town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I really thought I'd have this whole thing done in like three weeks, but then I hit some writer's block.  
> I've also decided to make the last morning a separate chapter.

Otabek was sure that Yuri had made plans for his last full day in St. Petersburg, but the fact of the matter was that Yuri had tutoring in the morning  _ again _ , so Otabek awoke to a series of texts from his best friend. Otabek texted him back.

**Messages with** Yura  
  
**Beka:** I'll be downstairs when you're done  
  


He didn’t bother showering, since he was planning on hitting the private gym, so he put on some workout clothes and went into the kitchen.

He was greeted by Makkachin, which could only mean that Victor and Yuuri were out. Sure enough, there was a note on the refrigerator.

We’re at the rink. Feel free to eat whatever you’d like! Yurio has tutoring until noon.  
\- Victor & Yuuri 

Well, that explained that. Otabek just grabbed some fruit and made himself a protein shake for breakfast. He made sure to wash the dishes he’d used, and scratched Pyotya behind the ears before going downstairs to the gym.

He still thought it was ridiculous that Victor and Yuuri had a private gym and a private spa in the middle of St. Petersburg, but he had to admit that it was nice being able to use whatever equipment he wanted with no wait. Victor and Yuuri had already gone down to the rink, and Yuri was upstairs, so Otabek was free to watch whatever he wanted on the flatscreen tv as he used the elliptical. (Of course Victor and Yuuri had an elliptical. Otabek was, frankly, surprised that they didn’t have two).

He paced himself, and tried out a few different machines. He was lifting weights when Yuri came in, also dressed in athletic wear.

If Yuri’s eyes lingered when he saw him… well, Otabek hoped it wasn’t just a figment of his imagination.

“Hey,” Otabek said.

Yuri went to the barre by Otabek and began stretching.  _ Fuck _ . “I did math today; are you going to tell me that I need calculus in my illustrious future as a… fuck, I don’t even know?”

Otabek smiled. “Not unless you decide you want to do something in math or science. But being educated is important.”

Yuri rolled his eyes.

“You know,” Otabek said, thinking of a way to motivate his best friend. “Even JJ goes to school. He’s apparently top of his class at university.”

“Must be a shitty university,” Yuri scoffed. “We all know Jean-Jackass is going to be a coach or commentator or some shit after he retires. Why even bother?”

Otabek shrugged. “I’m just saying, it’s not just me and Katsuki. And if JJ can do it, you can do it. I’m not saying you have to go to university, but…”

“But I need to actually pay attention to my lessons, I know.” He rolled his eyes and did a stretch that Otabek  _ never _ would be able to pull off. He didn’t even look like it took effort. Yuri caught him staring and grinned. “Beka, we both have our own strengths. Yours are being smarter than everyone, and lifting weights, apparently. Mine are being a smart _ass _ and flexibility.” As if to prove his point, he did another stretch that Otabek could never do.

“I get it,” Otabek said, swallowing hard. “And I’m not smarter than everyone.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Beka, it’s like you don’t see how awesome you are.” He did some other impossible stretch.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t smart. Just that I’m not smarter than everyone.”

Yuri stuck his tongue out at him. “So  _ anyway, _ ” he said, stretching some more. “I wanna work out for like… half an hour, and then we can go.”

“Go where?” Otabek asked.

Yuri grinned. Holy fuck was Otabek screwed. There was no earthly way that Yuri should be allowed to be so fucking adorable. And flexible. “It’s a surprise.”

* * *

An hour later, Otabek and Yuri had showered and changed, and Yuri was dragging Otabek down the streets of St. Petersburg.

“Since you’re such a pretentious fucking ass,” Yuri said, “I assume you’ve already been to the Dostoevsky House and Pushkin House.”

It wasn’t a question, but Otabek nodded. “Yeah.”

“So,” Yuri said, stopping and turning to Otabek with a grin. “Gogol or Akhmatova?”[1]

“Which do I prefer?” Otabek asked.

Yuri nodded.

“Well,” said Otabek. “I like them both. Akhmatova’s poetry is beautiful and emotional, and Gogol’s impressionism and focus on the banal definitely inspired later authors. But if I had to pick… Akhmatova didn’t have any works relying on antisemitic stereotypes, to my knowledge, and she wasn’t a steadfast tsarist.”

“So… Akhmatova?” Yuri asked.

“Yeah. Akhmatova.”

Yuri grinned. “Great! So let’s get on the bus!”

Otabek was powerless to resist. Not that he would have if he could have.

They caught the bus by the rink and rode it for about twenty minutes to a stop along Nevsky Prospekt.

They went to lunch first, as it was, after all, a little past one in the afternoon. Otabek let Yuri drag him down Nevsky Prospekt. To Otabek’s surprise, the restaurant wasn’t Russian, or Japanese, or anything he might have expected from Yuri. It was German.

“You speak German, right? Besides, I figured what better place to eat as much treyf food as possible before you go back home?”[2]

Otabek grinned. “It’s definitely unexpected.”

They went inside and got a table for two. Yuri ordered a sausage platter, and Otabek ordered the Wiener Schnitzel. The food was, Otabek had to admit, delicious. At Yuri’s needling, Otabek also ordered a beer, but he stopped at one. Beer was full of carbs and calories, and he really tried not to make a habit of drinking it. He was, after all, a professional athlete, and even in the off-season, he needed to maintain some semblance of a healthy diet.

At lunch, Yuri laid out his plans for the rest of the day. “So, first is the Akhmatova museum, obviously. And then I found this place, that seems like a cat café, kind of, and I wanted to check that out.”

“That sounds really cool,” Otabek agreed.

“Right?” Yuri grinned. “You can book an hour with the cats. And then we can do whatever museums or whatever you want to do.”

“I kind of wanted to see the Grand Choral Synagogue? Not for services, but…”[3]

“Sure,” Yuri agreed.

“And the national library. It’s on Nevsky Prospekt.”

“As long as you don’t get distracted and spend the rest of the afternoon in there. I have plans.”

“I won’t,” Otabek promised. After another bite of Schnitzel, he paused. “Actually… if I do, just drag me away. It’s not like I can check anything out, anyway.”

“Got it,” Yuri said. 

By the time they were done, neither of them had room for dessert, and Otabek let Yuri lead the way down Liteyny Prospekt, and then, looking at his phone, through a passageway between two buildings, through a courtyard park, into another passageway, and into a building.

There was a plaque stating that they were at the Anna Akhmatova museum.

Yuri looked at him expectantly. Otabek smiled and gave him a thumbs up.

“Am I the best friend ever, or what?”

* * *

They left the museum in a good mood, and then made their way to the cat café.

“Pyotya’s gonna be jealous,” Yuri said before they got inside. “But whatever. She’ll bitch at me anyway.”

Otabek smiled.

* * *

After the cat café, Yuri followed Otabek to the national library. Otabek took some pictures, and looked at some of the exhibitions. Yuri didn’t seem  _ too _ bored, but Otabek reminded himself after an hour that maybe they should head out.

Next, they went to the Grand Choral Synagogue. There were no services at that time, so they were allowed inside. Otabek took pictures, mostly, and asked Yuri if he’d ever been before.

“No,” Yuri said. “I’m not really observant, and I was raised Reform, anyway, so an Orthodox service would probably just end up seeming really foreign to me.”

“Well, I grew up Orthodox,” Otabek said. “How would you feel about going to services here the next time I visit?”

“I’ll try it,” Yuri said, “but I know I wouldn’t come back alone.”

“That’s fine,” Otabek assured him. “But this synagogue is absolutely beautiful, and I don’t think I could, in good conscience, pass up the opportunity to go to services here at least once.”

Yuri shrugged. “I guess.”

“Anyway,” Otabek said. “I’m done here, I think.”

“Good, because I was about to drag you away. It’s time for dinner.”

Dinner, it turned out, was going back to the apartment and helping Yuri cook katsudon pirozhki. Yuri prided himself on them, although he admitted that they weren’t as good as the ones his grandfather made, and he’d never made them for Otabek before.

He helped Yuri make the dough, and when the time came to roll the rice, egg, and pork into the pirozhki, Yuri pushed him out of the way. “You’re doing it wrong,” he said. “Haven’t you ever made pirozhki before?”

“Not really,” Otabek admitted.

“Well,” said Yuri, “I’ll give you the recipe and you can practise, but I’m not letting you fuck these up. Trust me: getting the filling in without letting it spill out or get too doughy is an  _ art _ .”[4]

Otabek rolled his eyes, but stepped back and watched Yuri. His tongue stuck out the tiniest bit, and Otabek was caught by how fucking  _ adorable _ Yuri was. Of course, he’d never voice that opinion, because he knew Yuri hated it when people called him adorable or even cute. He found it infantilising.

Half an hour later, the pirozhki were done, and, Otabek had to admit, they were delicious. He said as much to Yuri, who beamed.

“Check and see if you can bring food on your flight. If you can, I’ll give you some to take home.”

Otabek nodded and continued eating. He knew that pirozhki were usually served as a side with soup, but these were wonderful on their own.

After dinner, they went into Yuri’s room, because Yuri swore that just because it was Victor and Katsuki’s date night didn’t mean that things wouldn’t get gross in the shared areas.

They curled up together on Yuri’s couch and watched  _ Le chat du rabbin _ . Toward the end, Beka felt himself nodding off, but managed to stay awake. “What would you do if Pyotya learned how to talk?” Otabek asked as the credits started to roll.

“Who said she can’t?” Yuri responded with a grin. The cat was stretched out on his lap, and he scratched her behind the ears. “Honestly, I’d just be grateful. Probably. Who knows. Maybe she’d start to annoy the fuck out of me, too.” He looked down lovingly at the cat. “But I doubt that. She’s my angel.”

“She’s a wonderful cat,” Otabek agreed. “The best cat.”

Yuri nodded in agreement. "Damn right."

They talked for another hour, well aware that this would likely be the last time they spoke in person until at  _ least _ the Rostelecom Cup, and that was  _ if _ their plans panned out well. Eventually, Otabek could barely stay awake, so he hugged Yuri goodnight (an action that he’d later look back on with horror) and stumbled to the guest room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Famous Russian authors. Gogol has been described as an impressionist and as a surrealist; he wrote prose in the early to mid 19th century, was devoutly Russian Orthodox, and believed in divine rule. Akhmatova wrote poetry in the early-mid 20th century, and she is the most famous female author in the Russian literary canon. I had to memorise one of Ahkmatova's poems for my Russian class. I don't remember a single line. [return to text]  
> 2 Treyf = not kosher. This can be a lot of things (shellfish, pork, horse, mixing meat and dairy), but here Yuri's referring mostly to the abundance of pork in German cuisine. [return to text]  
> 3 The Grand Choral Synagogue (Санкт-Петербургская Большая Хоральная Синагога) is the second largest synagogue in Europe, built in the 1890s. It's really pretty and also really famous. [return to text]  
> 4 It seems really easy but no seriously, getting the filling into pirozhki _is_ an art (which i have not yet mastered)  [return to text]  
> 


	7. BONUS: The Last Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Otabek leaves St. Petersburg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically, it's still seven days in St. Petersburg, since Otabek's flight into St. Petersburg came in in late the afternoon on day one, and then his flight out left at one on day eight. if we're counting hours, that's still seven days.

Otabek’s flight left at one in the afternoon, so he was expected at the airport by ten in the morning. He woke up at six thirty, showered, got dressed, finished packing, arranged Yuri’s stuffed animals (which were still in the room from three days ago) on the bed, and went out to the kitchen.

To his surprise, Yuri was sitting at the breakfast bar, nursing what was probably a mug of coffee. “The two dumbasses are downstairs at the spa,” Yuri said, shoving a katsudon pirozhki into Otabek’s hands. “They’re driving us to the airport, though. Couldn’t talk them out of it.”

“Us?”

Yuri snorted. “Well, I’m not gonna say goodbye to you _here_ , am I? What kind of shitty host would I be then?”

“Mm, that’s fair,” Otabek said.

Yuri went to the refrigerator and made up breakfast for Pyotya and put her bowl on the counter. He clicked his tongue for the cat, and she came over to rub up against Yuri’s legs. Yuri picked her up and put her on the counter. He stroked her down her back and left her alone to eat.

“You do that in order to piss Victor and Katsuki off, don’t you?”

Yuri smirked. “Maybe a bit. But Beka, they’re so _annoying_.”

“You’re the one who decided to live with them.”

“Ugh, I _know_ ,” Yuri whined. “Anyway, you need to be there at ten, so we need to leave by twenty after nine.”

Otabek didn’t want to go. Sure, Victor and Yuuri could be annoying, but he just loved _being_ with Yuri. And knowing that they likely wouldn’t see each other in person until the Rostelecom Cup made it all the worse.

“But,” Yuri said, “that gives us a little over an hour until Victor and Katsudon show up again. I was thinking we could watch some music videos? Victor has some ridiculous expensive shit that lets us watch YouTube on the TV.”

Otabek smiled. “That sounds like a great idea.”

“We’ve gotta start with Brendon Urie, though.”

“You and Brendon Urie.”

Yuri grinned. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for a hot dude with a cool as fuck undercut. And we’ve only _begun_ to delve into his music.”

And so, when Victor and Yuuri finally came back to give them a ride to the airport, Yuri had played every music video Brendon Urie had ever been in, and Otabek had returned the favor by playing some of his favourite songs for Yuri.

They’d just finished “Panic” by the Smiths, so Otabek went to play “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” next.[1] The song had been playing for about ten seconds when Victor and Yuuri very noisily came back in, and were viciously attacked by Makkachin’s jumps and licks.

After they’d managed to calm the dog, Victor grinned. “Oh, I know this song! The Britney Spears cover is the best!”

“Britney… Spears cover?” Yuri asked. “You really _are_ the gayest man alive.” [2]

“No shame in that,” Victor said, shrugging. Otabek looked over. He was clad in a tight pastel pink v-neck shirt and skinny jeans. Yuri had a point. But, then, so did Victor, who flounced over to the couch. “You should play the Britney Spears cover!”

Otabek rolled his eyes, but knew Victor wouldn’t stop until he listened. “After this is done,” he promised.

Victor pouted, like a child, and Otabek had to remind himself that Victor was nine years older than he was. How was that possible?

Once the song was over, Otabek reluctantly typed in “britney spears i can’t get no satisfaction” into the search bar. He clicked on the first result.[3] And then, to his (and Yuri’s) horror, Victor began singing along, and dancing with Makkachin.

While Otabek had no delusions about his voice (he could hit a note and carry a tune, but his range wasn’t fantastic), Victor, it seemed, had no idea how his voice was. Or maybe he didn’t care. Because the man certainly couldn’t belt, and yet when the tempo increased, that’s just what he did.

Yuri buried his face in his hands. “You see what you’re leaving me alone with?”

“Katsuki’s here,” Otabek said.

“Katsuki just eggs him on,” Yuri hissed.

And, sure enough, within ten seconds, Victor had traded Makkachin for Yuuri, who was giggling. The scene, like most with Victor and Yuuri, was incredibly domestic, disgustingly cute, and made Otabek feel like he was _intruding_ on something.

When the song ended, Victor dipped Yuuri and kissed him. Otabek looked away. Still, he felt a weird sort of longing. But Mila said not to tell Yuri how he felt until after the season was over… and if Otabek were honest, he wasn’t entirely convinced that Yuri felt the same way. He knew that Yuri was interested in men (if his comments on Brendon Urie were anything to go by), but that didn’t mean that Yuri was interested in _him_ like that.

But then… maybe he was.

Otabek shook the thought from his head. It wasn’t worth thinking about. Not until the season was over. He’d tell Yuri after their free skates at Worlds.

Ten minutes later, they were all piled in the car, Otabek’s luggage packed safely in the trunk. Yuri complained about the bright pink car, but Otabek, for his part, was just glad that Victor had the top up.

On the ride to the airport, Victor and Yuuri left Otabek and Yuri mostly alone, and Yuri talked Otabek’s ear off about all kinds of things. Yuri swore loudly that he and Otabek would sweep every competition they were in. (Victor and Yuuri ignored him).

When they got to the airport, Victor and Yuuri said their goodbyes in the car, and assured him that he was always welcome to visit. Yuri helped him get his bags and walked with him into the airport.

“I swear on my Baba’s grave, Beka, if you don’t call me when you get in, I’ll fly to Almaty myself and kick your ass,” Yuri swore.

“Isn’t that just incentive for me not to call?” Otabek teased. “You flying to Almaty?”

Yuri swatted at him. “Ass.”

On impulse, Otabek hugged him. “I had a great time. Of course I’ll call.” He let go of Yuri and smiled. “And I’m looking forward to watching you kick ass at Skate Canada.”

“Like there was any question,” Yuri said, rolling his eyes. “And _you’d_ better kick ass at Rostelecom. If Georgi beats you, I’ll kick _your_ ass.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

“I’ll see you at Rostelecom, asshole.”

“Looking forward to it.” He looked over to the check-in counters. “Airport selfie?”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Of course!”

He stepped in closer and Otabek pulled out his phone. Yuri slung an arm around Otabek’s shoulder and pulled a face. Otabek took the picture, but said, “Are you capable of taking a normal selfie?”

“Doubt it,” Yuri said with a grin. “Post it on Instagram.

So he did.

> **otabek-altin** Heading back to Almaty. Had a great time in #StPetersburg with @yuri_plisetsky but it’s time to train for #Rostelecom![4]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 If you haven't heard them, here's a link to ["Panic"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wMykYSQaG_c) (which is, apparently, where Panic! at the Disco got their names from), and here's one to ["(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nrIPxlFzDi0). [return to text]  
> 2 This is just fact tbh. Victor is the gayest possible human man. Yuri mostly just thinks his taste in music sucks. [return to text]  
> 3 [This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vF2l_rWdvDs) is the first result (the one they play), but [this was the legendary moment where Britney Spears performed the cover at the VMAs](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nk97PAooe_w). [return to text]  
> 4 I didn't have a picture to use here, so I elected not to use the instagram coding. ~~but hey if anyone wants to draw that i'd be forever grateful~~ [return to text]  
> 


End file.
